Achilles Heels
by Ocean Mint Leaves
Summary: 'Prophecies do not lie.' And there is but one way to submit a man that is all powerful. BAMF! Merlin. Big Reveal Fic. No Slash.
1. What Brings Us Together

*SPOILERY STUFF*

This is the end, then?

The knowledge that there will not be a series 6 of Merlin pushed me to finally publish this as a kind of tribute to the greatness that is Merlin. My Saturdays will_ never_ be the same. :(

So, for those who don't know I've discontinued Exustio. Sadly, as I stated on the A/N of the first chapter, that story was not planned at all and it just wasn't happening. With Mordred coming in as a knight in season 5 ( am I a seer or what? :P) I saw even more reasons to stop. Mordred is a delightfully complex character in what goes of the season and I simply didn't do him justice. :)

*END SPOILERY STUFF* ( thanks servant123)

However, since the whole point of Exustio was me finally trying my hand at a reveal fic I decided to whip something together for you guys. This is all spurning for a mental image I'd have since I watched the finale for season 3 (one that is used in this chappie) . That means that this is _long_ overdue.

As I stated at the beginning of Exustio I don't believe any reveal can do justice to the actual thing and this is just my version. I would love to see what you guys think, because the possibilities are endless and each and everyone of the reveal theories out there are entirely likable.

This starts in _media res_ so it's alright if there's a little bit of confusion. Hopefully, everything will be explained as we go on. :)

There will be a soundtrack for each part but there is a song that encompasses the whole fic, especially the lines, _'what brings us together is what pulls us apart.'_ from 'Gone.' by Ioanna Gika. God, seriously just listen to it. It is beautiful. ;)

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_"What brings us together is what pulls us apart."_

- Gone by Ioanna Gika.

* * *

**What Brings Us Together...**

_**...**  
_

Be it true or false, what is said about men often has as much influence upon their lives, and especially upon their destinies, as what they do.

- Les Miserables, 'Victor Hugo.'

**...**

"Arthur!"

Even when he was teetering at the edge of conscience he recognized the voice.

He'd recognized that voice anywhere but yet the King of Camelot _knew_ he was hallucinating so he did not bother to blink his eyes open and glance at what would be the end. As a result he lay there, awkwardly sprawled over his injured side, feeling the ghost of his breath hitch as it left his lungs.

Still, insistent, leaving a dim echo of unfiltered panic in its wake, the voice rose again, as if from the depths of the ocean.

_"Arthur!"_

It was several ghosts of breaths later that Arthur realized the touch he was feeling was real and that meant the voice that was whispering reassurances in his ears was actually there, by his side.

The rush of panic, warmth and an undefinable prickling on his heart forced his unwilling eyes to open.

He was expecting to see the end. Perhaps a blade already drawing back to deal the mortal blow, maybe the dark ceiling above him or the smiling faces of his enemies, waiting for the last rise and fall of his chest. Instead, what he saw was what he dreaded and yet desired with all of his heart.

He looked upwards towards an unmistakable pale, lean throat that was convulsing as it spit out words Arthur could not hear. White hands grasped his arm and side, intending to hold on strong enough so that all blood was drained from those fingers…

He forced his eyes to focus so that he could dismiss this hallucination as foolish and impossible but instead of darkening and breaking apart the vision sharpened and Arthur could distinguish, as clear as he could see his own breath becoming white mist in front of him, blue eyes peering down at him with clear distress.

And there was no doubt, then. Not even when, for whatever reason, there was a cloak covering most of Merlin's face and his eyes were blazing with the light of a thousand suns, not even when all logic told him that it could not be true. Because Arthur would recognize his loyal, clumsy fool anywhere.

Merlin was supposed to stay in Camelot. He was supposed to be safe, with Gaius and Guinevere...

He was definitely not supposed to be kneeling on a half-collapsed dungeon with his King bleeding out whilst cradled on his lap.

As soon as the truth dawned on him his heart jolted on his chest in a need to warn Merlin of the eminent danger, on a need to protect his manservant from his own foolishness. He felt his voice rising up and leaving his throat in a murmur as he said,

_"Merlin."_

The man looked down at him with those eyes full of something Arthur had never seen- it was certainly _not_ power- and they softened, his face crinkling as that familiar smile lit up Arthur's pupils.

_"Arthur."_

The relief in his voice poured over Arthur, as if Merlin's pure, unaltered happiness at finding his King mostly unmarred and – _thanks to the gods_-not cold with the paleness of death, washed through his jumbling thoughts and one alone stayed.

_Get Merlin the hell out of here._

Easier said than done for Arthur was not counting on his life sweeping quickly through the wound on his side, draining him from all the ability to wrestle his manservant out of the claws of a painful death- not that Merlin would've left anyway- and back towards Camelot.

Why couldn't the idiot leave things alone?

Merlin's throat was moving again, Arthur could see how his Adam apple bobbed up and down before a new stream of whispers left his lips and this time he nearly jolted upwards from the shock when another voice spurned, maybe in an answer to Merlin's.

"We had no choice."

"Enough." Merlin's fingers dug even deeper into his chainmail and his blue eyes stole another quiet glance at Arthur's ashen face before he snapped his head upwards again.

The voice that Arthur could not place because Merlin was everything he could see seemed oddly pleased as it said, "You came."

"You knew I would." Arthur heard Merlin reply, although the words reached his ears by the time Merlin's lips stopped moving. "And yet you've hurt _him_."

"_So it's you. You are Emrys_."

It was spat out with a reverence that was reserved for the gods and the paleness of Merlin's face became a shade whiter, if possible. Trying his hardest to remember where he'd heard that name before, the King of Camelot glanced at the half collapsed walls.

The man, whom Arthur could see now though it was only a dark lean shadow, continued. "The protector of the Once and Future King…"

Hands tightened around him almost unconsciously, as if they were driven by an inborn instinct to keep him close and in the dimness of the place Arthur could make the ghost of a mirthless smile pass through Merlin's face. He found himself shivering at the pure loathing in it.

Another second and then Merlin's eyes were looking right into his as his pale hands tapped his sodded cheek, blinking away moisture on those dark blue irises. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, Arthur." He said gently, completely disregarding the dark shadow approaching from behind and titling its head as if to see them better. "_I found you._ Do you know how much work it took?"

Arthur could imagine. He'd seen Merlin trying to track a deer before and figure out a map while holding it upside down. But yet, his eyes were slowly closing and darkness was creeping at the edge of his vision while Merlin called out his name, even more panicked than before.

Then,

_"What do you want from me_?!"

It was unmistakable. Merlin's voice was choked with tears and in a dim part of his consciousness Arthur wondered why.

"We wanted to find you, Emrys." The shadow sounded awfully sincere. "But you've proven very difficult to pinpoint. However, it seems that your only weakness is also your greatest strength."

Merlin's breath hitched above the King's titling world.

_"Arthur."_

The King did not hear what was mumbled after but Merlin's enraged scream after forced his eyes open.

_"I will not allow that!"_

He glanced upwards through hazed, glassy eyes to find Merlin's own were glazed over.

"I told my men that you would not be thrilled should he be in a state such as this. But they did not listen to me."

No, they hadn't. It had all been a trap. Arthur hadn't had a chance.

Something pressed tighter on his chest as he felt his breath leaving him and it was all too much to draw another one. There was an odd peace around him and the jumbled thoughts in his mind all seemed to dissolve into thin air.

Letting a smile curve his lips upwards though the pain was cursing through his veins like corrosive poison, he decided he could enjoy the fabricated product of his feverish mind while it lasted. God knew he hadn't been able to imagine his life without his loyal manservant by his side for a long time and now his longing was providing him with one last comfort, of having his best friend by his side though he was not really here because, even though the arms holding him felt real, Merlin _wasn't_ in such an immediate danger.

But yet, all of his logic was thrown overboard once more when a cold hand pressed itself to the gaping wound on its side and he felt his body arch in pain and a sound, as a wounded bear, left his throat ragged and torn.

His eyes snapped open…

And above him,_ Merlin's_ eyes were blazing gold.

.

Arthur held the look of those blue eyes turned gold with his own while it lasted.

Not once did Arthur look away.  
Not once did Merlin look away.

It was as if he were entranced, completely and utterly captivated by the golden light reflecting on his face, pouring from the eyes of the man he thought loyal to no fault, flowing around him while tendrils as light as air and as soft as any feather touched him.

Arthur Pendragon allowed himself, for the space of a few seconds, to loose himself in the embrace of light emanating from Merlin's eyes, in the warmth of something he'd only dreamed of before. His safety.

Yet, all too soon, it was over, and Arthur was left gasping rattled breaths while blue crept back into the eyes of his best friend, replacing the gold gradually until there was none of it.

Then, Arthur knew.

This was not a hallucination, because this was _not Merlin_. This was an impostor.

Without even realizing it he was squirming away from the sorcerer's touch, whispering a litany of curses and quiet '_noes_' as he tried to force himself up with his tied wrists and feet.

"Arthur, _please_." The man that was impersonating Merlin- the _sorcerer_- said, looking on the verge of tears. "Don't move. You've just been healed…"

"Don't touch me!" he snarled, astonished at the strength his voice now had and at the way his vision cleared for moments. Seeing Excalibur lying a few feet from him he lunged for it but the sorcerer's arms held him steady so that his eyes were looking up towards the man's face.

"You have to listen to me now, prat." The word was a heavy blow since no one knew of the jest between them. No one but _Merlin_. "You can do with me whatever you want but now I need you to stop moving and- _Arthur!"_

Taking advantage of the sorcerer touching the part of his jaw where Arthur's tied fists had punched him the King tried to make his way towards his sword again….

Only to be restrained by a soft arm curling around his midsection.

"I know you're angry." The sorcerer's voice hissed in his ear. "I know you're upset but you I _swear_ I'll explain everything once I get you out of here-"

However the impostor didn't manage to finish whatever he was going to say because Arthur's elbow found his stomach and soon the King had struggled free from the sorcerer's grasp and was crawling towards Excalibur with everything he had.

Different hands, so rough that Arthur marveled at the impostor's obvious care, hauled him upwards and he lashed out, trying to break himself free again only to have one of his enemies take a fist of his hair and yank his head backwards.

Blinking away the dust Arthur had his first clear look at the impostor. The man was kneeling there, his arms lying loosely by his sides, hands covered in blood and soil, eyes welling up for moments and lips pursed into a thin line.

He looked so _much_ like Merlin that it made Arthur's heart flutter against his neck.

"Just let him go." the man that looked like Merlin whispered, not even glancing around to the brutal -looking mercenary that had placed the tip of a blade on his back. "I'll do whatever you want but please…just _let him go_."

Before any of the men around him could provide an answer Arthur found his own voice rising up, the fear and hate that had taken hold of his heart pouring from his screams as if they were water. "You filthy_ liar_! What have you done with him?"

The gaze of everyone in the room found his and they all wore the same expression of utter astonishment.

_"…What?"_ the impersonator whispered.

"You are_ not_ Merlin!" Arthur cried out, fighting so that he could glare directly into the impostor's eyes but failing miserably when another yank at his hair mad him grunt. Still, he continued screaming if only so that he could take from his chest a minimal amount of the _horror _he was feeling. "Where is he, you bastard? I swear that if you've hurt him…" he trailed off, unable to think of a punishment that could be enough.

The impostor's blue eyes looked surprised beyond belief. Gesturing with his pale hands, as if to remark his words, he sighed before whispering, "Arthur. It's me."

The pounding in his chest went even faster, stuttering when silent tears began to fall from the impostor's eyes. And yet, he shook his head, refusing to let him mind deceive him into thinking something as painful as what he was seeing could be possible. "No! Merlin would never _betray_ me like this!"

"I've never betrayed you." was the mumbled answer.

He paid no heed to the tears falling from the man's eyes, of course meaning to lead him astray, but shook his head once more; pleading silently that Merlin was alright and that he'd managed to escape because Arthur knew that the man kneeling before him, looking up at him with wide, soft blue eyes, was_ not_ his manservant.

"You are not him." He repeated, stubbornly looking towards the ceiling and blinking the dirt out of his eyes, failing to acknowledge the fact that it was not dirt but moisture what was starting to blur his vision.

The impostor did not answer him but let out a low growl when the sword at Arthur's throat nicked his skin.

"You mean to say he does not know, Emrys?" the man that had been a shadow in Arthur's consciousness asked, disbelief tainting his every word. "He has _no idea_?"

"Just let him go." The impostor repeated. He hadn't moved from his kneeling position. His hands were still outstretched in the floor, palms facing upwards, relaxed over the cobblestones.

"Tell me a good reason why I should." The man said before nodding towards Arthur. "And I will spare his life."

A small silence took place in which Arthur felt the blade on his neck press even tightly over his skin.

Finally, the impostor answered, with a softness and acceptance that Arthur had never heard in a human before.

"I'll go with you…_willingly_."

Holding out his wrists and looking directly into the imprisoner's eyes, the impostor did not stood up, as if all energy had been drained from him from the moment Arthur's eyes had refused to meet his.

At the pure sorrow in the voice of the impostor Arthur found himself, almost unwillingly, wishing that he could look into those eyes. But the man continued, softly, effortlessly, as if he had prepared himself for that moment. "You know who I am. You know what I can do. If you let him go I will not fight, I will not escape, I will not stop you. But if someone touches Arthur Pendragon again I _will kill you."_

His voice froze hearts as hidden poison swept beneath the softness of his words, solely by the echo of his threat. Then, the rough hands holding Arthur back let him go and he staggered forwards only to be pulled into the impostor's lean arms in an effort to keep him upright.

He found himself face to face with the man, looking into those dark blue eyes and even further, reaching the very soul…. everything inside him.

And Arthur could not bear to look, could not bear to look away. Because what he saw was not at all what he was expecting….

_"Merlin."_

Just like that, he knew.

He'd been a fool all along.

The man gazing into his eyes with his own tear-filled ones could be no one but his clumsy fool of a manservant.

He'd been blind.

His mind barely registered the whispered, "Yes Arthur it's me," as Merlin's hands unbounded his wrists and feet and ghosted along his shoulders, too afraid to touch him, as if a touch from his hands could frighten him.

Merlin.

_A sorcerer._

Merlin smiled at him and said not another word and Arthur could see in the tension of that futile attempt to regain normalcy that he was not hallucinating, that it was all real.

"It can't be…" he found himself saying, shaking his head and grasping Merlin's chin with his newly unbound hands, titling his pale face side to side as if he could find a sign to tell him that it was all joke and that Merlin was most definitely _not _using magic…

Merlin allowed it, closing his eyes so that Arthur could not see his own betrayed, horrified expression in their reflection. Because disbelief was everything Arthur could feel in those moments. He'd forgotten all about the other men, he'd forgotten all about the mercenaries, necromancers, sorcerers and wizards that surrounded them.

_"Seize him."_

Arthur's blood ran cold at the shrill command and then Merlin was being torn away from him, grabbed by those thin arms of his that could not lift a sword without keeling over, pushed away none too gently as a hand on the King's own shoulder pressed hard so that he would _let go_ of Merlin's wrist, going as far as to tear away his fingers one by one from the bony hand of his manservant while Merlin still _smiled_ at him from the distance and said, in a cheery tone. "Don't be a prat, Arthur."

He had no time, no time to say anything, no time to even question why he'd shoved Merlin's golden eyes to the back of his mind as his manservant was dragged away from him and he was forced down on his knees, barely aware of his increasing, incessant and desperate struggle to reach for Merlin again, not understanding that the screams echoing in the ear-splitting silence... were his own.

"Go, Arthur Pendragon." They'd said once his screams became murmurs of the word '_no_.' "You have nothing more to do here. Go back to your life and enjoy it while you can. We're honor bound to Emrys and cannot touch you."

He did not move, kneeling, as he was, over the cobblestones, finding it hard to believe everything he'd just seen and even harder to understand it. But one thing resounded above all others. He needed Merlin by his side. He could question the man later…they could-they could figure it all later. As they always had.

_Together._

He glanced downwards at his blood-stained chain mail, wriggling his fingers through the gaping hole on it and touching the unmarred skin below, soft and pale. Healed.

Merlin had healed him.

With magic.

Still numb, his mind was finally tying all the tendrils and filling the gaps between consciousness and dim awareness, between lying in Merlin's arms and then seeing his eyes blazing gold…

His nails dug into the uneven rock while the unabated feeling of betrayal settled against his heart, once again. He felt himself gasping while blinking again and staring at the sun shining down on him, the outside inviting him to just walk out and bury Merlin's memory deep within himself as just another betrayal. Another friendship that had only been a lie.

Merlin had_ healed_ him.

He could not understand…

.._.Why?_

Arthur Pendragon did not rise. He knelt on the dark cobblestones, too stunned to even draw Excalibur closer to him. He knelt, unmoved by the repetitive shoves at his sides as the man tried to push him back, staring at the mouth of the cave Merlin had disappeared through. He knelt and did not utter a word, eyes still fixed on the last he'd seen of Merlin, gentle, clumsy, cheerful Merlin who'd never once steered him wrong.

He could not understand…

…He _needed_ to understand.

All the answer that he sought had just been torn apart from him in less than a minute.

"Where have you taken him?"

The two thugs at his sides -the ones that had beaten him just a few hours earlier and were now keeping his distance just because…Merlin had wished for it- blinked at him.

"You intend to go after him, Pendragon?" One of them asked, and it was clear by the look on his face that he thought Arthur insane.

He did not answer.

But he could not get on his feet and leave either. It felt as if his heart had been torn in two, by another betrayal slapped across his face and by a deeper and ancient tendril that held him in place.

**...**

_To be continued..._

* * *

Soundtrack for part 1:

Looking for You Again- Matthew Perryman Jones. ( mostly the first verse and chorus...the rest of the song fits on the next part.)

Gone, obviously. :P

Nothing and Everything- Red. (again, this can be applied to later chapters.)

No light ,No light- Florence & The Machine.

Long, _long_ overdue I tell you. :P This has been written down for months.

So that's that. I cannot wait to share the rest of this with all of you guys. *is excited.* Though I cannot wait for the actual reveal to happen- it _has_ too- there are so many good fics out there that it will be hard to top them all. I can't wait to see what the writers do.

Love,

Ocean.


	2. Is What Pulls Us Apart

Even if I am not entirely happy with this chapter I decided that it was time to post it. Maybe someday I'll go back and edit it. :)

First of all, you all rock my socks. I promise I will answer each and everyone of your reviews when I have the time but know that I read them all and appreciate them more than you can tell. *hugs* thank you! And to you, Ash9, you were a life savior! *hugs and never lets go.* I still have to answer you personally but your review made me go Holy Crud! and yes, I did a quick edit and read-through. I hope is better now. :D

This chapter was hard to get out, maybe because I wanted to squeeze every little bit of Arthur on it. I think it became mostly a character study of our dear, oblivious King than a chapter at the end * he he* but hey, the next one is almost done and I've had such a blast writing it! :D

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"My Lord," said Merlin, "assuredly thou art entirely right in what thou holdest. But thou must bear in mind that thou are not as an ordinary errant knight but that thou are a King and that thy life belongeth not unto thee but unto thy people. Accordingly thou hast no right to imperil it, but shouldst do all that lieth on thy power for to preserve it."

- 'King Arthur and His Knights' by Howard Pyle.

* * *

**...Is What Pulls Us Apart.**

.

When they'd brought Sir Owen in, battered, bloody and a breath away from death Gaius had told Merlin to stay back but he'd refused, arguing that the man needed help. However, when he'd come closer and seen Owen it was clear that there was nothing left to do for him. Sir Owen, despite the little gasping breaths he drew, was already dead.

Then, as he'd stared into the cloudy, dimming eyes of the knight the question slipped from his lips, almost as if it was a subconscious thought he hadn't dared to voice out loud.

"Where's Arthur?"

He'd felt Gaius' eyes on him as he staggered backwards because Owen directed him such a pained gaze, one of a man who knew he bore terrible news that his heart stuttered on his chest. And it was, simply, inconceivable. That the one time Merlin had agreed to stay home and help his mentor with the steady stream of patients Arthur would fail to return...

"Owen…" he'd tried again, blinking away moisture from his eyes. _"Where's Arthur?"_

For a moment, as Owen opened his pale lips Merlin held his breath but then the man whispered. "_Sorry_…we couldn't do anything…."

And Gaius was holding him back because his hands were curling around the poor wounded man's arms as if they were everything he held onto.

"What do you mean?" his voice was alien, not loud enough to be a scream but filled with the same timbre, as if he'd suddenly been left breathless. "Owen, _where is Arthur?!"_

"…Merlin, enough."

Everything Gaius was saying became a blur, Owen began gasping again as he tried to convey, over and over, how very sorry he was but he'd felt as if his heart had become a fleeting bird trying to escape the cage of his chest. The room titled and later he'd realized that he was shaking his head erratically, as if in doing so he could find any comfort.

_"Where is he?!"_

Merlin did not remember screaming but he did remember the crash, the sudden white light that flashed over Gaius' carefully arranged materials, bottles and herbs... and then the way everything in the small room trembled and lashed out, nurtured from his own horror and disbelief.

"Merlin!"

He did not remember losing control either but the devastation afterwards was proof enough.

Owen, for his eyes were already blackening with the veil of death, did not notice. But his feverish mumbles in which he asked for forgiveness because he'd _meant to_ save his king were nothing but agony.

"Merlin, my boy."

He found then that he was tearing himself away from Gaius' arms and advancing, almost in a daze, towards Owen. There was no ghost of breath in the air no sound between them so that, when Merlin had finally said in a low and soft, broken voice what was in his heart, it was as if it echoed throughout the room.

"You were supposed to protect him."

The knight watched him with pained eyes and yet made to move to answer him. His lips trembled but no sound came.

"You were supposed to _protect him!"_

_'When I couldn't.'_ was what lay, unspoken, in his heart. _'You were supposed to protect him when I couldn't._

Gaius' arms held him back in those moments and his voice, despite being soothing, was breaking in between phrases that were meant to comfort him. He was mumbling something about no possible survivors and _'…so sorry Merlin….'_

He did not let go of his ward as Merlin sank to his knees but held onto him, trying to provide any comfort he could to the boy he considered his son, now staring blankly ahead, still shedding no tears.

"He's not dead." Merlin said softly, stubbornly, into his shoulder. "He can't be. I would- I would feel it if it were so. He's not dead Gaius."

As if his words were a prayer Sir Owen's breath ceased behind them and Gaius had to let go of his boy, if only for a moment, to close the man's eyes. As he whispered a prayer for the rest of his good soul the physician took the cold fingers between his, intending to lay Sir Owen's hands on his breast. However, when he had unclenched what he thought to be an instinctual fist he found a withered paper crushed in it.

The following moments in which he'd whispered _"You're right my boy, Arthur is not dead." _ and Merlin had regarded him as if he was an angel sent from above before taking the paper out of his trembling hands and reading it with hardened eyes were mute for Gaius.

Because then Merlin said, looking up at him with unreadable blue eyes. "They want me, Gaius."

_"They want Emrys."_

_...  
_

As they guided him away from Arthur the expression on his King' face was so unlike anything Merlin had ever seen before that he couldn't help but let a slow smile, mirthless and shaky, pull his lips upwards. All his fears were being thrown in his face, for Arthur had not tried to kill him or even turned from him. But yet he looked as if the ground had moved below him and everything he'd ever held as the truth had crumbled.

From the moment Arthur had assured -with the same conviction as if he'd declared the sky above them was starless and black -that the man before him _could not be Merlin_, reasoning that Merlin would never betray him in the way this man had done, the warlock's heart felt as if it had been torn out of his chest.

He could've gone on with it, assured Arthur that he, indeed, was not his idiot manservant but a powerful sorcerer disguised so that he could save the Once and Future King but as the words formed within him and he prepared his soul for another blatant lie Arthur had begun to struggle and curse, damming him to everything he could think of if he'd dared to-

_'I swear that if you've hurt him….!'_

And he could not, he simply could not, let Arthur think that. So he said, "It's me." And it was as if time had _stopped _along with his and Arthur's heart.

Then Arthur fell to his knees.

Merlin winced when Arthur's knees hit the cobblestones and he remained there, not moving, looking up at him, at the friend that had just given himself up to save him, with wide, blank eyes. As the softness of his own neckerchief became an improvised blindfold Merlin's heart stuttered when Arthur's voice- raw and breaking from disuse- rang in his ears.

_"Merlin!"_

He bit his lip so that he did not answer the call with one of his own as the men elbowed him forwards, towards some dark unknown he hadn't known existed before.

It was expected, after all, that they'd somehow find magic-suppressing shackles, ones that were immediately and with sick gloating clamped around his wrists. From the moment the metal made contact with his skin it was as if his body had decided to shut down while his magic screamed in agony from inside his veins. Now, being half-dragged, half-pushed towards god-knows-where he found it extremely amusing that those men- too afraid to be near him before, cowering as hunted rabbits when he directed less than a fleeting glance at them- were getting more and more confident, first pushing him gently and later starting to elbow him in the ribs so that he would go faster while Arthur's voice still resonated down the corridors and in his heart.

Gaius had said that not even shackles made with the strongest of pagan iron could contain _The Emrys_ and Merlin himself had proven it time and time again during all the years serving the King of Camelot. And yet here he was, stranded, alone and bounded by _mere metal_. However, Arthur was breathing on the other side of that rock.

It was worth it.

"Not so mighty now, Emrys?"

He ignored the taunt, focusing on evening his breaths and squeezing his eyes shut beneath the blindfold (that was his own beloved neckerchief) to try and stop seeing Arthur's expression when he'd finally realized…

When he'd_ known…_

The sound of a door opening interrupted the direction of his thoughts and rough hands manhandled him into what was, undoubtedly, a cell. Finally the blindfold fell down, no longer necessary, and the damp, obscure surrounding walls of dungeons appeared around him.

Watching him wearily from the other side of the bars were the two thugs. They looked on as The Emrys let his head fall back and touch the cool stone wall, closed his eyes and let out a shaky breath.

Because Arthur knew.

Arthur _knew._

...

"Look where your loyalty got you, warlock."

Where, indeed.

As the man before him knelt, watching him with an interest that a hunter would reserve for his most precious prey, Merlin's gaze did not falter and he, too, studied him. Every inch of the man's withered, aged face, the way he held himself as if he was royalty. His hands calloused and wrinkled.

"The Pendragon is gone."

Merlin felt his heart skip as the words echoed in the small space, simple and yet uttered with assurance as if the man before him had known all along. He shook his head and his hair brushed against the cold stone as he did so, trying to elicit a smile from the sorrow he was feeling...

Sorrow. And why? Arthur knew now. It was understandable that he had left, fleeted from another betrayal as he tried to cover another wound inflicted upon his heart. One that he,_ Merlin_, had dealt with a simple flicker of his eyes.

But Arthur was alive. Wherever he was, he was _alive._

It was good enough.

Even if he was to never see his King again.

The man at the other side of the cell looked at him with pity in his dark eyes, shaking his head as he spoke. "I've always known that such _power_ in the hands of a single being was not wise. I've always known it would corrupt him."

Once, when he was young, Merlin would've jumped at the chance to prove that choices defined characters and not power. Now, he was silent, awaiting, listening. Too tired to even lift his chin higher. Too tired to move.

_"...He's gone."_

There was no strength in The Emrys' voice only deep, heart stopping sadness.

Before him his captor seemed shaken. He blinked a few times before saying softly, as if to arouse a startled boy. "Did you ever doubt he would go, Emrys?"

Merlin's gentle eyes rose to meet his and there was such child-like faith in them that he was left speechless.

"I hoped he wouldn't." said the warlock. " But I thought I knew him better."

His head dipped again, eyes open and unseeing, empty and devoid from all strength as they flickered towards the floor. The man found that it was a horrifying sight.

"I've proven my point tonight." A barely spoken murmur.

Merlin did not move.

"You_ care_ too much Emrys."

He turned towards the soft voice and it felt as if his heart was breaking all over again when his captor's eyes held in them a drop of the sorrow that was threatening to spill from his own. That part of his soul that was Arthur's, as a vine entangled on its oak, cried out when the truth hit him again, square in the chest, leaving him breathless.

"He's my _King."_

He choked with his words for he knew he would never see his King again. He'd given up the right to explain, the right to serve his Once and Future King for Arthur's_ life_ and now, even if he willed it with all his heart, Arthur would never know who he really was. He was torn from him.

It hurt to think that Arthur had not look back but yet Merlin knew it to be true. For what could he look back upon? A friendship that lasted a decade built upon deceits and betrayal. A lie.

He placed his head upon his bloodied hands as tears began to fall from his eyes. The man's voice, deep and yet heavy with sorrow, rose again.

"You've forgotten what your duty is and in doing so you've lost the meaning of your life. Did you really believe such power was to bow to an idle king? While magic cries under the ties Uther Pendragon inflicted you prefer to serve _him_."

Merlin's gaze moved from its place staring at the floor so that he could look into the man's ashen face. He said nothing but those eyes held in them a silent affirmation, as if through them The Emrys were accepting those words as the unbendable truth.

His captor made no movement as he spoke next and yet his voice quivered with emotion, heavy and restrained, and his eyes looked clouded as if he could scarcely believe what he'd seen.

"You offered no resistance tonight, Emrys. What if I had killed you? What would it have become of magic? The world would be off balance if you were to die and yet you don't give it a second thought as long as the Pendragon is alright."

"As long as _Arthur_ is alright." Merlin answered in a whisper. "I would gladly die."

If Merlin had looked up as he spoke out the truth within his soul he'd find the man's soft face morphed in barely contained fury. But he had no eyes for anything but his own, heart-wrenching pain.

"Yet he left you without a moment of thought once he knew the truth." His captor insisted. "He turned away. And if it was up to him, Emrys, you would rot here forever."

"I know."

The lack of response, of emotion from the warlock may had been the cause of the man's hands trembling as he slammed a withered, rune covered book to the filthy floor of the dungeons. Pages, worn, yellowed and wrinkled flew through the dusty air to land, motionless, at Merlin's feet.

"These-" he took one of the carefully crafted runes and shook it from his place at one side of the bars, watching The Emrys' eyes flicker upwards to focus his heart-broken expression on him. "These all are fairytales, Emrys! They won't save the life of thousands that are being slaughtered by the man _you protect!"_

As if they were flightless birds the thin pieces of parchment were crushed by his boot, spit upon by his lips, torn in two by his hands.

_"But your power would."_

And all of this The Emrys watched, silent, unmoving. Emotionless.

"I was hoping-"the man stopped for a moment, as if to gather his wits. "That I could make you see reason. But you've lost sight of what you are, Emrys."

Even while he stood before him, expecting an answer, Merlin did not look at him. Still as stone, arms wrapped around himself and chin low, it was clear to him that The Emrys did not have the will to fight anymore.

It was so very wrong, to have such a powerful man cave in like this. It was so wrong to see the Legend break, as if he was nothing but a lost boy.

"I was wrong." he murmured, and his voice was nothing but an echo of his broken faith. "Such power…for nothing."

As water trickled down from the rain above and the moon cast its white light upon the prisoner The Emrys' trembling, bounded hands pick up, almost tenderly, a piece of parchment that had made its way to his side. His pale thumb ran through the drawn runes as he closed his eyes.

It was a small comfort; he thought quietly, that in those runes there was everything he'd ever known to be true. Written down by hands that had seen what he'd longed to see since the first time he'd set foot upon Camelot.

* * *

Once, when he was but a boy of seven, the Once and Future King's horse had thrown him off.

He did not remember much, not really, but the bleak and detached way his eyes blinked, the sluggish movement of his tiny body, the certainty that he was about to die as the hoof came down. Thankfully his father's arms were suddenly there, leaping from the sidelines to get him into his warm embrace and protect his heir. Afterwards- and that was why the memory had taken a part of Arthur's heart- his father had whispered to him stories about a guardian angel, watching over his little golden head.

From the moment on he'd imagined the appearance of this being of legend and reached the conclusion that it was his own mother, whom he loved dearly, who watched him from Avalon. He'd never told his father what he'd imagined to be true though it certainly felt so, whenever his life was saved precariously there was a tenderness on his heart that spoke of love and kindness, what he'd known as Ygraine Du Bois' benevolent touch.

The memories were dim but it was after he'd been crowned prince of Camelot that the sudden presence of something he'd ached for made itself known. He thought, and a smile spread through his lips whenever it crossed her mind, that his mother and Queen was making her love known for the son that had reached maturity. For, all of the sudden, a deep throbbing on his heart vanished and a quiet rush of healing streams swept through his soul. In the time it took a nightingale to sing it's lullaby the Once and Future King felt whole.

And it was that wholeness what made him anew on the eyes of those who knew him. His smile turned sincere and compassionate, his eyes were bright with a happiness unbeknownst to him until very recently and his heart was suddenly engulfed with such clarity that it was hard to think back on the days in which a dropped fork meant the end of his good mood.

He'd grown accustomed to the warmth that suddenly encompassed his all from time to time, grown accustomed to the trickle of celestial water that seemed to pour itself into his throat, giving him something he hadn't known he was missing. More than once he'd kissed his mother's cold grave and cried tears of grateful love for everything she was giving him.

And yet, in the same moment Merlin's eyes became liquid gold that odd feeling had returned, stronger than ever, and suddenly everything fell in place and Arthur's heart began throbbing, aching, dulling, breaking beneath the strain of a realization that tore apart everything and everyone he'd ever known.

For how could it be Merlin that guardian angel whom guarded him from above?

...

_"This is a mistake."_

For what else, really, could it be?

Both of the men by Arthur's side, waiting patiently for the King to stand up, looked bewildered.

"It has to be."

_It has to be._

But he knew what he'd seen. And he knew what it meant.

.

When night fell upon him King Arthur turned away.

He'd waited in silence, on his knees, for some godsend answer, some divine touch that would snap him out of the hellish nightmare he'd somehow stumbled into. There was none and eventually he'd recognized that no one could explain what had just happened or why did his feet refused to move up until he could hardly see the hand in front of his eyes.

He did not get far.

He_ indented_ to, oh, how he did. He had closed his eyes, stilled his broken heart and clenched his teeth as he took steps towards the nearby forest and...away from his captors.

_Away from Merlin._

The conscious thought _alone_ sent the most horrifying of chills down his spine and his whole body, from head to toe, became lead that could not pull its own weight. To know that he was abandoning the man he'd lived alongside with for more than a decade was enough to make his eyes snap shut and his heart ache but there was _more_, an desperation that he had felt counted times before, a need to go back and have Merlin on his sight, the same need that had urged him to scream Merlin's name until his throat was dry, no matter how the light of his golden eyes lingered behind Arthur's eyelids.

Because Merlin, cheerful, wise, clumsy, idiot Merlin had _magic._

Ever-present Merlin had magic.

_Traitor._

His fingers traced the pallid skin that was peeking through the whole in his chain mail and again the absence of any wound reminded him that, if anything, he should not give Merlin the title of betrayer, not after saving his king's life.

_You don't know how many times I've saved your life._

He hadn't been joking and it had taken Arthur a decade to finally understand.

No, the Once and Future King did not get far. With pursed lips and the stoniest of expressions he turned his horse around and nailed his eyes- now red-rimmed on the effort to hold his emotions at bay- on the fortress he was leaving behind. On the _man_ he was leaving behind.

_Not even Emrys can save you now._

Morgana's silky voice swept through his mind as a rushing storm and the King gasped as the name finally found a place in his memory, dropping from his once sister like venom and spat out in sheer contrast with the devotion his captor had shown towards the name. He'd never laid his eyes upon the name before yet the sound of it felt as a forgotten friend he'd found again in the direst of circumstances.

Yet Merlin had _lied_ to him...

And the knowledge of that hurt more than anything else because this was Merlin, a man he'd trusted with everything he held inside, a man he had believed to be above any kind of deceit, his moral compass, his advisor. _His dearest friend_. Those deep blue eyes held within them everything that Arthur thought true and pure, everything he knew as his constant. If anything he'd always though Merlin would be there for him through it all...

And now the fantasy he'd thought reality had cracked as a fragile crystal and the shards were boring into his soul, creating such agony that not even his fist on his mouth could hold back the muffled sobs his throat, rebellious, was emitting. His gaze traveled, as if directed by mere instinct, towards the north part of the fortress and he found that he could not take his eyes away for, if just for a mere moment, the ache on his heart diminished.

He did not get far.

Suddenly a new emotion swelled his heart. Rage. Unadulterated, unbecoming pure rage. Swallowing violently to try and push the waves of frenzied fury down his throat he decided that Merlin would not get away with it so easily. Wasn't his precious manservant the one who'd told him that betrayers sought his power?

_'They don't hate you',_ Merlin had said and the sincerity shining on his eyes had been Arthur's anchor on the darkest of his nights, '_they just crave your power for themselves'_

Now he had proof-and as a child who's belief had crumbled down he found tears flowing freely from his eyes-that it was not so. Merlin could not desire power; if he was certain of something it was that his idiot manservant did not seek it. So then, why...?

What had he, Arthur Pendragon of Camelot, done wrong? Why did people he held close to his heart betrayed him without a second thought, as if it was an instinctual act in all of them, as if something in his blood drove them towards treachery?

Because if Merlin himself was a liar who was Arthur to trust anything he'd ever said?

And the rage swallowed him whole as he pondered upon his manservant's words, tears blurred his vision as he recalled the heartbroken look on Merlin's face, fury pushed him forwards.

An irrational desire to find out the truth took hold of him and, even if later King Arthur of Albion would deny it ever happened, something else. Something deep and engraved within his soul that pulled him and tore him apart without mercy towards the man he'd intended to leave behind.

He did not get far.

Arthur Pendragon stopped advancing in the starless night as the path of destiny forked before him.

* * *

*phew!* glad that's out of the way. :D

Until next time ladies and gentlemen!


	3. Et tu, Merlin?

*fails to contain squeals.* Let me just say..._holy macaroni tonight's episode of Merlin._

*Breathes.*_  
_

I've always wanted to see a title/story/drabble inspired by Shakespeare's little quote below. Well, I guess I'm the first one to do it. ;)

Big thanks and hugs to April29Roses for inspiring this chapter. This is dedicated to you, my friend. :)

Facts that might help with the chapter:

Courage: _Strength in the face of pain or grief._

Maleagant (_Melwas_) is a villain from Arthurian legend. In the legend he is king of the "Summer Country" ...Oh, and abducts Guinevere. But that's not relevant to this story. :D

* * *

"For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel:

Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him!

This was the most unkindest cut of all."

― William Shakespeare

* * *

**Et tu, Merlin?**

**.  
**

The gods had named him _courage_ and there was no instance in which Arthur honored this more than when he, with a broken heart, forced his horse to stop and turn around.

The man never saw it coming. How could he? The King of Camelot knew enough about training new guards to know that he was new to this post. He never stood a chance. It wasn't long before Arthur had placed the deep burgundy helmet upon his head, taken a sword from the unconscious man and made his way throughout the corridors with nothing but the faint light of a torch and his heavy heart.

He found the rest of the guards and knights as he doubled the next corner. They were drinking and joking as if they had not one care in the world, even going as far as leaving the keys to the cells carelessly tossed on a table and it was his tanned hand what snatched them as he walked by.

The King would later think it all a dream. As he walked, doing it all methodically with the skill of a man trained in stealth since his birth, he often looked for the reassurance presence of Merlin by his side only to be reminded cruelly of _why_ his manservant was not one step behind him as he always was, annoying his King with his incessant chatter and inflaming his heart with those joyful grins.

Then he recalled the touch of _Merlin's magic_ upon his soul and he shuddered, trying to stop the memory before it stopped him with an aching heart.

He tightened his grip around Excalibur's hilt almost reflexively as the memories flared up inside him and they all flashed through his mind. Maybe (and this thought brought a little consolation to his heart) Merlin had learned magic from Gaius. Maybe the idiot had found a book of spells and taught himself expecting nothing at all. Could it had been that the despair of seeing Arthur near death had triggered something inside the young man and whatever he'd read had just burst out?

'_Yes Arthur it's me.'_

Those words-Merlin's words- sent another ripple of desperation through his body. They had been spoken with such gravity and surety, as if Merlin had accepted some unchangeable fate. Arthur could not find his bumbling manservant anywhere in that simple phrase.

It _was _Merlin. But it was the Merlin he saw very rarely, the Merlin that he'd dubbed humorously _'Wise Merlin'_ and who appeared whenever he, Arthur, needed him. This man was a facet of the mystery of Merlin that he was slowly uncovering and now…

Now, apparently, 'Wise Merlin' had not been a facet but the real Merlin all along. Where was his fool of a manservant among the power and greatness in those golden eyes?

'_Who are you, Merlin? Who are you really?'_

The unmistakable flickering light of torchlight suddenly stopped the King dead on his tracks and he tried to appear as meek and as insignificant as possible while the reflection grew larger and larger until shadows were there too and then, before he could move, the shadows became men.

"You there!" one of them told him, angling the torch towards Arthur. "You should be in the throne room with the others!"

"…of course." Arthur managed.

"If you are one of those new fellows-"the other knight said with a sad shake of his head and a snort, "- then you must be lost. Go east and then turn to your left. You should arrive soon enough. _And trust me, you won't regret it_."

Arthur shot one lingering look towards the dungeons before nodding and, very slowly, making his way through the east pass ways. He could feel the other man's gazes on his back as he walked away and it wasn't long before they followed.

Arthur never questioned how or why his feet seemed to know the way even before the men behind him pointed out what route to take and then he walked into a circular room, crowded and heavy with the strain that curiosity and dread produce, as if all those present were holding a collective breath. Aided by years of training it wasn't difficult for the King to elbow his way through the swarm of knights and commoners alike until he was looking with wide eyes at whatever seemed so fascinating to the rest of the crowd.

His own breath caught in his throat when he saw it but for entirely different reasons. He held back just in time, biting his lip before he screamed the name of the man that was standing tall and unmoving, bounded and pale in the center of the room.

And Melwas, that aged _traitor,_ paced around Merlin as if his manservant was an animal led to the slaughterhouse.

Then, at the same time the room quieted he announced, "Gentlemen. _I give you The Emrys_!"

Merlin's jaw clenched slightly and he stood up straighter, finally looking at the gathered people with those deep eyes of his that Arthur knew so well. As if the act on its own was a sign of doomsday the whole crowd rocked backwards with a hushed gasp.

"He's the one prophesied," Melwas continued. The bitterness in his words was underlined by the way his staff trembled on his hand. "The one that was sent to break us free. But what has he done? _What has he done?"_

Arthur's heart broke all over again when Merlin did not confirm nor denied this name being his own and nothing short of agony went through the King once more.

"My family is dead!" a sorcerer cried in the stillness of the throne room, his eyes desperate and his face gaunt. "My family is_ dead_ because of _you!"_

Arthur's heart shook at the sorcerer's stricken cry and words flared up inside his mind, _'It cannot be. Not Merlin.'_

However Arthur's eyes never left the hooded face of Merlin and he saw how the man's head dipped, ever so slightly, and his shoulders hunched. Rising above his own betrayal Arthur found himself wondering if he'd ever known Merlin at all.

And it _hurt _to think that his manservant, whom he thought the most loyal and kindest of all men, was nothing but an act.

"I'm _sorry_." Merlin said, and it was so sudden and unexpected that people flinched and recoiled, as if hearing Merlin's calm voice was a prelude to war. "Truly," Merlin continued, not paying any heed. "I am."

Silence froze the world for an instant before it was broken again by another grief-filled shout,

"Sorry is not good enough!"

The scream gave way to a tumult and barked accusations flew through the air, curses and wails- as if they were thrown spears- were targeted towards the lonely figure of Merlin. Arthur, silent and unmoving through it all, just watched.

This was Merlin- there was no mistaking him, not after he'd memorized every feature, the sharp curve of those shoulders and the quirk of his smile in case he lost Merlin again- but this man held almost nothing of Merlin's kindness and cheerfulness. This was Merlin, but a Merlin that had been_ ripped _apart from everything and that had nothing but pain in his heart.

"_He is the most powerful of all!" _howled Melwas with a short, clipped laugh and Arthur's heart plummeted to the ground when he heard it. "Why is it that we still live in fear, then?"

"He's a _coward!"_

The accusations reached Arthur's pale servant as if they were living flames but Merlin did not say a word and Melwas, taking a step forwards, spoke again.

"No, that's not the word. I think that confused or _delusional_ would be more appropriate."

In the moment the phrase resounded through the silenced chambers Merlin looked up and this time there was nothing of the gentleness he'd held a few moments ago. There was a sudden tension that rippled the very air as Merlin- his gaze cold and sharp- looked directly towards the gathered people before him.

There was a collective gasp when Melwas reached out and lowered Merlin's hood with an almighty cry, "He's nothing but a_ boy_!"

Arthur saw the chiseled white face he knew so well, the tousled black hair, the sharp cheekbones and big ears. But those eyes…those were eyes Arthur had _never_ seen before. Merlin- his Merlin- had never looked so grave and cold, never held within him so much heart-stopping fury as he did in those moments, eyes swirling with something that Arthur could not name.

Melwas did not notice any of it. If he had then he would have taken a step back.

"He's young and naïve and he's made mistakes." The aged man went on. "And don't we all? But he has taken no action at all because-" and here Melwas stopped and turned around as he settled his dark eyes on Merlin's. "-because he's _waiting_ for someone."

As sudden and as quick as lightning Merlin declared with a voice that must've inflamed his heart, "The Once and Future King will bring a New Age to this lands! An era of justice and peace!"

It took several seconds for the people to register what had just been said and when they finally did their screams did not surpass that of Melwas, who had lost of his calm disposition and whose face had turned dark in his gut-twisting anger.

"that's _false_!" the man who had been a druid cried out, "it's heresy! _There is no Once and Future King,_ Emrys! How can you possibly think yourself lowly enough to be under a mere human's command?"

"_I know him!"_ Merlin said, and his voice trembled with emotions too high for them to comprehend. "And I know his heart. He's the one who will unite these lands and bring a new era of peace. You _must_ believe me-"

His pleading words found no echo in the hearts of these grieving men.

"Oh, you've been corrupted by your affections Emrys. If there was ever a man as you describe then why isn't he under your command? Why didn't you taken him towards victory with your power?"

Merlin's answer would have been lost had the room not been as quiet,

"It's not in my right. I could _never_ force it upon him."

"Because you_ care_ too much about him." Melwas said, and Arthur saw through tortured eyes the way Merlin flinched as if the man's words were a dagger that was being twisted upon his heart. "Because you'd rather die than seeing him hurt. Because you are afraid of his judgment."

Even if the taste of Merlin's magic still sang within his veins for a moment Arthur Pendragon forgot about it. He forgot about the gold behind blue and instead felt deep, heart-stopping sadness as he realized that there was a man whom Merlin had declared loyalty to, one that could very well be another magic user. And, apparently, this man was destined to be a king and rule fairly with magic by his side.

Then, as if it was a puzzle he'd managed to solve, all of Merlin's midnight escapades made _sense _and it felt as if his heart was suddenly flailing when he questioned how much time had Merlin known this man. A man he was prepared to die for. A man he had placed every _trust _upon.

Later on Arthur would ask himself how he hadn't seen it but maybe it was the bewilderment, numbness and sorrow what made him so blind. And he wondered how believing Merlin owed his loyalty to some other man could hurt more than the magic itself.

"I trust him." said Merlin after unbearable moments of silence. He held his head high as he spoke and Arthur could see a spark of something ancient and deep glimmer in his eyes. "_I trust him._ I trust in his destiny."

"_Except that this is not about destiny anymore."  
_

The words struck Merlin like nothing had before and he recoiled, as if they had caused him physical pain.

"This," a gesture in which he signaled all people preceded Melwas' words. "the people dying and suffering, is what this is about Emrys."

Arthur, for the first time, looked around. And he understood.

He had seen his people wear those grim, sodded masks of agony of their faces, had seen Camelotians beg him with the same bags ( bags that denoted physical and emotional pain as well as hunger and weariness) below their eyes. His heart had broken before for the misery some of his people lived in and he had tried with all his heart to set it right.

In that instant his eyes, once clouded and now alight with newborn understanding, saw _no_ magic-users. He did not see those who had bounded and gagged him, he did not see in those faces the features of those who'd taken Merlin away from him. He saw hungry, desperate people that needed hope, that struggled to live and breathe.

In the face of those fathers who'd been forced to watch his children die Arthur saw his pain. In the face of those young men who were fighting for their freedom Arthur saw his knights. In Melwas- a man who'd _betrayed_ him once he'd reached his dominions and buried a rusty blade in his side- Arthur saw the desperate actions of a ruler who could not stand his people's agony.

All in one instant, the new revelation struck him and he raised one hand to his chest to try and calm the sudden rushed beating of his heart.

"Where is your faith?" at Merlin's voice Arthur snapped his head towards his once friend - _were they friends still? who was this man?_- and settled his gaze on his too bright eyes. "You wait in me but yet you don't believe in him. Where is the fairness in that?"

"We can feel your power, Emrys." a young man said, not too far from Arthur. "We _know_ you exist."

A murmur of collective agreement went through the crowd around Merlin and Arthur saw those deep eyes tremble, ever so slightly.

"You can end this without any kind of king to aid you Emrys-"

Merlin ( and Arthur had never seen him so _angry_) whipped his head around to look at Melwas, who'd just spoken. "You- you called me 'protector of the Once and Future King' when you-" suddenly words failed him. The servant took a deep breath before saying heatedly, "You knew. You knew it was _him._"

When Melwas answered his voice was measured.

"The Once and Future King was meant to be a tool for your success Emrys. Nothing more."

"_My success_?" the laugh, bitter and mirthless, was something that had never left Merlin's mouth before. "_Mine?_ The only success I ever wanted was _his_!"

It was a knife thrust deep into Arthur's chest. When Merlin's eyes shone with such certainty that- even if they were no longer inflamed with golden speckles- they seemed _brighter_ Arthur's disbelieving heart was forced to accept the truth. That Merlin had, apparently, lied and forsaken him.

And he thought he'd_ die_ of agony.

"You've idealized a legend and in doing so you've written _our doom_!" Melwas cried out. "The Once and Future King will not save any of us! Will you turn your back on us too, Emrys?"

The world held its breath and so did Arthur as Merlin- eyes unimaginably bright and soft, dancing through memories past- took a breath and said gently, effortlessly.

_"I cannot betray that which makes me whole."_

* * *

Had Arthur asked him how he'd found his King Merlin would not have been able to answer. It was a mystery, even to him, the way his magic pumped and broke through every weak barrier between him and his friend, every breath becoming fire inside his lungs as the horse carried on, guided only by the warlock's instinct. It was as if an invisible cord had stretched between them from the moment Merlin was left behind, a cord that hurt as a physical wound would, whenever his thoughts settled on his wayward king and a bond that had, undoubtedly, _guided _him throughout the land at the end.

It was the same feral instinct that had taken him to Arthur whenever his King needed him. One that once his heart was settled and his stallion had broken into a fleeting run (_never_ fast enough), let him accomplish what no knight could.

Words failed him the moment he saw Arthur. He only knelt by his best friend's head and gathered it gently in his lap, biting back a scream and shushing his heart as well as his_ brother_ with whatever nonsensical words he could find. Arthur's eyes, those he knew as well as his own soul, stared back at him and the defeat in them made Merlin's heart stutter.

Concealed in his chest the note that Gaius' had given him became heavier, weighing his all down with the simple and yet horrifying threat that was scribbled, _'Come and find him Emrys.'_

How they'd known_ Arthur_ was _his_ Once and Future King was still a mystery but it mattered little now. He was thrown in the cell again after he'd spat out those words he knew to be true, that he could not - _not ever_- betray Arthur.

Now, he sat on the darkened cell with nothing but his faith to hold on to.

The door creaked before it was opened and, as Merlin watched- from below the hood covering his pale face- a guard enter the reinforced prison, stop and set down the food on the other side of the bars that held him, he shook his head because Arthur was _safe _and nothing, not even the sentence his captor would come up with, mattered now.

Then, as a sudden lightning bolt, a burning flame within his chest, his magic cried out.

His magic _cried out_ and along with it his heart and his veins were suddenly pumping with adrenaline as his gaze and that of the tall guard before him, for the briefest and faintest of seconds, connected.

"No." forgetting everything that surrounded him Merlin stood up and his gaze eyes did not let go as the man took careful steps towards him and stopped. With slow, soft motions he reached for the helmet upon his head and took it out.

_Arthur Pendragon_ stared back at him and Merlin knew that the heartbroken look in his eyes mirrored his own.

"Arthur…."

The word escaped his lips, both a soft inquiry and a sweet reproach for he had peace only in the knowledge of Arthur being safe and now, _now_ Arthur was there, a few feet away, staring at him with vulnerable blue eyes , boring holes into Merlin's gaunt face.

But yet the joy…such a senseless, overwhelming undefinable joy filled him that there were no words to describe it. He wondered briefly if it was selfish, to feel his heart gladden at Arthur returning even when it meant his friend, his _soul-brother_ was in danger once again.

And he, Merlin, was chained to a wall, incapacitated to serve as his beloved King's guardian.

"What are you doing here?"

The King shook his head once, twice…as if he himself did not know how he'd reached Merlin again.

"I want to know why." Arthur whispered softly. "I want to know why you did it. Because _damn it_ Merlin, there _must be a reason_. What is it about _me _that made you do this?"

As he'd always done Merlin read between the lines. _Why do you hate me so much?_ And his heart broke for the man he would never hurt-

Yet he'd _done_ it. And his broken heart shook because Arthur could very well lose all trust in people. In himself.

Not saying a word for fear of his voice failing – both to convey what needed to be said and to speak, since he could feel tears building up on his eyes- Merlin unfolded the withered piece of parchment he'd held tightly to his chest and handed it to Arthur.

For Arthur this was an agonizing wound thrust upon a raw one. He read in that withered paper the confirmation of what he'd heard mere hours ago.

_Quondam et futuris rex_

_Altus rex Britanniae...*_

And he could go no further. His eyes suddenly stung and his throat was dry as he tore his gaze from the words that held within something he'd been trying to prove false, even though he knew he could not.

Then, those sky-blue eyes grew cloudier and cloudier the further they advanced, until the Once and Future King was crushing the ancient writings into a ball and throwing it towards Merlin-whom was cruelly reminded of innumerable goblets thrown in the same manner-before letting out a frustrated scream.

"Are you trying to tell me-"he began, starting to pace in the reduced space. "That you are- you are a _powerful_ sorcerer and-" and this was the part that hurt the most for the King of Camelot. "That you owe your loyalty to _this king _because a piece of paper told you so?"

His enraged gaze found Merlin's and if it hadn't been for the immediate danger that hung over Arthur's head the warlock of legend would've laughed at the irony.

"Arthur-"

But his King did not let him finish. The deep sadness in his eyes stilled Merlin's words before Arthur said in a soft, heartbroken whisper.

"All this time…." And the next words chilled Merlin's heart. " you've been trying to _usurp me_…"

"No." it was barely gasped, as if all air had been choked out of him and Merlin didn't even notice that he'd stood up and wrapped his hands around the cold bars of the cell, trying and failing to look into Arthur's eyes with his own. "Listen to _me_, Arthur. When have I ever expressed any desire for the throne? Have you ever paid attention to what I've always told you-?"

"_Lies."_

He spat out the word with such hate that it burnt in the air as if it were corrosive acid. And Merlin could tell that Arthur meant it with all of his heart.

The legendary warlock Emrys could only shake his head as his voice, low and soft, said in a barely spoken murmur, "I've only lied to_ protect_ you, sire."

Hope, dim and light, as an effervescent ghost, flickered through Merlin's eyes when Arthur's own showed a barely contain flash of recognition. But his Once and Future King began shaking his head as he turned away while grasping Excalibur's hilt, almost reflexively. Tortured sky eyes met pained blue.

"No, Merlin. You've _betrayed _me as well."

It sounded fragile and weak, as if Arthur was trying to convince himself of the inevitability those words carried and that he dreaded and loathed was carried in Merlin's heart as well.

Merlin's voice did not waver once as he whispered his answer, and even if, for a fraction of a second he felt the urge to look right into those blue eyes and he himself find the odd gleam of liars he did not do it.

He could not bear the thought of finding it.

"You know I have never done anything that could harm you." Merlin said in a hoarse whisper and if the white knuckles were everything to go by he was grabbing the bars between him and Arthur so strongly that it was a wonder they were still intact. "You know this Arthur. You _know me-"_

Of everything he could have said those words were like salt upon a raw wound. Arthur Pendragon's face – just a moment before open and uncomprehending- darkened as if his eyes were a moonless night. The softness of his features now resembled stone and his hand tightened, almost convulsively, over Excalibur.

"_I don't know you." _He said through clenched teeth, turning his face so that Merlin could see his darkened countenance, so that he could see how truthful Arthur was. "You are the sorcerer Emrys. You are_ not_ my friend."

Something akin to the deepest hurt crossed Merlin's face, as a shadow that was soon gone and replaced by odd and somber acceptance.

"You _know." _

Arthur's eyes burned when he answered. "I know you are called Emrys and that you have powers most sorcerers only dream of. I know you've sworn loyalty to this foreign king and I know-" he choked with his words when he heard it said out-loud. "I know you were _never my friend_. You were using me Merlin.."

Merlin raised up and there was such a desperate light in his deep pupils that Arthur thought he was crying.

"I am your friend-" Merlin whispered with a thread of breath.

"Apparently you are also the most powerful sorcerer to _ever_ live!"

The unaltered rage that was cursing through his veins fueled the fire in his eyes and the timbre in his voice and Merlin- whom never feared the Pendragon's wrath for he knew that he and only he could hold Arthur at bay- stopped talking.

He spoke at last, almost carefully. "It does not change the fact that I am your friend Arthur-"

No, it did not. It never did. It also did not change the fact that Arthur was alive and healthy, healthy enough to scream at Merlin like a maniac when he should've been dead.

Once again his fingers found the gaping hole on his chain-mail where the fatal wound once lay and which was now completely covered with new flesh, as if it had never existed. Merlin's eyes, as alert as ever, followed his hand and Arthur saw him flinch as if the memory of the gaping hole on his side was a fatal blow.

"You healed me." Arthur said in a whisper, narrowing his eyes so that no movement that came from Merlin escaped his eye. _"Why?"_

If it was true that Merlin-_his Merlin_- was this man destined to hold within all power then why on earth would he save a meager King like himself? If Merlin hated him as much as to betray him…why had he saved his life?

"Why, Merlin?"

And Merlin, looking down while grasping the bars of his cell as if they alone were holding him upwards mumbled, "You already know."

"You keep saying that." Arthur hissed, but the brokenness on his voice still swept in between. "But it is not true. I don't know you. You- everything about you was a lie, wasn't it?"

_Who are you Merlin? Who are you really?_

Though his words sounded convinced Merlin could see- as only he could, right through Arthur's noble face and into his heart – that his dear King wished it was not so.

"You know_ me_ better than you know Merlin." the imprisoned warlock argued softly. "You know me since the day of your birth and you've known my heart since before."

He made a point of nailing those eyes of his on Arthur's face and even if the King resisted with all of his might he found the pull of those magnetic eyes was more entrancing that the strongest will. When his eyes found Merlin's, glimmering with contained tears and the light of the moon, the sheer devotion and faith in them amazed him because it was as if Merlin knew he'd just said a truth, higher than any other, one that only the two of them could comprehend.

"Your guardian-" Merlin stated gently, and those dark blue eyes scanned every line, every feature of Arthur's face as if he knew it by memory, as if his master's – his King's'-eyes were the only thing worth looking into. "Your protector-"

"Stop it." It was as if Merlin was laying every truth Arthur had felt in front of the King and it _hurt_ so much…."Merlin, _stop it."_

Merlin carried on, not once taking his eyes away from Arthur's.

"Your _friend_-"

Watching the ghosts of memories past, of him and Merlin laughing, joking, smiling….Arthur could do no less but squeeze his eyes shut because each memory was now ruined by the insistence of a betrayal hidden in each of Merlin's bright smiles.

And Merlin went on.

"_Your warlock-"_

At this Arthur could feel his head snapping upwards and his brow furrow in confusion for it had been long since he'd heard such word and yet…

"_Warlock_…" he repeated in a whisper, watching as Merlin's eyes- so fragile- illuminated and gladdened at having Arthur's locked with his once more.

He nodded and for a moment Arthur saw a shadow of the enthusiastic, over joyful boy that had become his manservant.

"You think I _chose_ this, Arthur?" he whispered, "I was born like this for one reason and one reason only."

And as Arthur's eyes found in his the tiniest speckles of gold that had always softened his friend's gaze and that he, in his blindness, could never identify, Merlin's gaze became alive with a fire that Arthur had seen counted times.

"_You_, Arthur Pendragon."

Suddenly Merlin's eyes seemed to become clear as the rising sun to him and it was as if he'd never- not even once- seen Merlin in such a complete way. For a moment his manservant's eyes, wise beyond anything he could express and swimming in speckles of gold, were engulfed in such breathtaking light that there was no doubt, no doubt at all about his sincerity.

But yet Arthur whispered, blinking as a dazed child. "…_what?"_

"You accused me of working for another king earlier." Merlin said, "And you could not be more wrong. Honestly Arthur how many times have I told you that you and you only are the destined king that will unite these lands?"

_The Once and Future King._

Oh, and how Arthur's heart bet wildly against his ribcage once it all slotted into place...

"Because it is you sire," said Merlin. "It's always been you. _You are the Once and Future King Arthur._ You are the one that holds my life."

And, by virtue of Merlin's soft words, Arthur could _see._

He saw Merlin's loyalty and unwavering faith in him, saw the light that shone in those deep blue eyes whenever Arthur sought them with his own, saw- for the first time- that Merlin had, not once, deserted him. He saw the bright golden magic that had always been part of him, since the dawn of time, because Merlin himself was part of him.

_'I trust him.'_ Merlin had said. _'I trust in his destiny.'_

Deep, almost soul-rooted awe enveloped Arthur's very being and he could do nothing but whisper with a voice that held within all of the wonder that he felt.

_"Merlin…"_

Tears streamed like rivers of silver down the gaunt, exposed face of his friend…his_ warlock._ "It was always you, Arthur. Everything I've ever done has been for you and you only."

The Once and Future King shook his head and one last, bitter hiss left his heart though his soul was soaring high. "How do I- How do I know you are not lying?"

"I'm not…" whispered Merlin. "God help me but for once I am not lying, Arthur."

Merlin's voice was soft, almost sweet as he looked upon him with those blue eyes he thought unwavering and true and whom still held that spark that Arthur – were these other circumstances- found soothing.

Yet now, it unnerved him. Because he knew what that gleam in Merlin's eye represented and the open, raw wound of a new betrayal burned deep within his lionhearted soul.

"Those poor souls out there-" Merlin said with such sadness that it choked him. "They all wait on me, Arthur. They were thrown into a genocide by prejudice for who they are and want me to free them. But it is not me..." his eyes, almost timidly, looked directly into Arthur's. "It is not me who will do it. It is you, Arthur. Because magic...magic is a force of good too Arthur. I _know_ you already know it-"

"_Show me_." Arthur whispered.

Painful seconds crawled by before Merlin blinked and the full extent of Arthur's request entered his mind. For a moment Arthur saw his tired eyes go extremely wide but the next he was shaking his head as his hands tightened on the rusty bars.

"I can't, Arthur." He recognized, almost piteously. "These things-"he held up his bounded hands for Arthur to see "they were made by your father to contain anything magical. I can't do anything."

Their eyes met and as Arthur 's found the unwavering blue of Merlin's his old friend added, " You don't know how much I wish to show you what _good _magic can do, Arthur…."

If the true joy in his voice was anything to go by Arthur knew Merlin's heart was behind that wish and it felt as if his own was expanding, recognizing and accepting that maybe it was all true...

"Even if magic can be used for good deeds...magic has taken everything from me-"he said softly, almost as if the whisper was meant for his own ears. Almost as if the whisper was that last strand that held him and Merlin apart. "How can you expect me to _believe_ you, Merlin?"

Yet Arthur _knew_ magic was not evil and if he'd ever wanted living proof the man right before him was it. Merlin.

And he sought Merlin's gaze until his eyes were locked with Merlin's and the warlock returned it with such fervor that if Arthur had ever doubted this was Merlin- his Merlin- now he knew.

And his heart stuttered.

"_I am magic,_ Arthur." Merlin said and Arthur couldn't help but think this truth higher than any other. "And I've drunk poison for you, broken Camelot's law for you, fought a thousand armies with my bare hands for _you_ and stayed by your side until the very end because _you needed me_. So don't you dare say you won't believe me now because I won't accept it." By now his hands were shaking and his eyes were shining with a feverish haze that Arthur had never seen on his manservant. "After everything I've done the least you can do is believe that I would never hurt you intentionally."

His voice grew softer, until it was a strained murmur. "That's all I ask of you Arthur. Please don't think any differently of me."

_I won't._

The words resonated through his mind in the echo of a conversation, held in Merlin's childhood home, long forgotten. And suddenly Arthur knew that it was all true because only _Merlin _would not ask for his liberty but rather be his annoying selfless self and ask for Arthur's understanding. Only Merlin would know what that phrase, meaningless to others, meant to _him_, how he'd pondered on it for days before letting it go although he knew without any shadow of doubt that there was something intriguing about his manservant….

But before he could try to speak above the thunderous beating of his heart Merlin's demeanor suddenly changed and he became still, his eyes narrowed and his honest faced closed and Arthur found himself staring- not at his dear friend but rather the man who he'd caught glimpses of through the years and who now had a name.

_Emrys._

"Get out of here, Arthur." Merlin said, extending one of his bounded hands as if the simple gesture could make Arthur go away.

He did not move but rather frowned as he let words that he meant with all his heart. "No, Merlin. I will _not_ leave you."

And he knew it was true. He could not leave Merlin, not again. _Not again_. Even if Merlin was Emrys, even if Arthur now had a title that held within all of Merlin's will, even if Arthur still did not understand clearly he knew that if he went on without Merlin he would endure _another_ agony.

"Arthur, _please."_ he was begging now. "If they find you they _will _kill you."

There, kneeling in the grime with dirty fingers and face Merlin raised his gaze up to meet his King's. The Once and Future King was cruelly reminded of something he had said to Merlin almost a decade ago, _'Do you know how to walk on your knees?'_

Now, the sight of Merlin on his knees repulsed him.

"What about you?" the King found himself whispering.

"It doesn't matter, Arthur." said Merlin through glimmering eyes and a shadow of his gleeful smile. "You are a great King. I will find my way to you, I always do. I _promise._"

He was lying and Arthur knew that.

The King found he was shaking his head before Merlin could speak again, and it was then when Arthur knew that Merlin was true and loyal to no fault, that everything he'd said on those chambers was true and that he, Arthur, was the receiver of such great devotion. A rush of brotherly love swept over him as he saw with his own eyes what Melwas had assured,

_'Because you'd rather die than seeing him hurt.'_

And the Once and Future King knew then that those words were true for him as well.

So he knelt by Merlin and watched as his dear friend shied away but kept his gaze on Arthur's, as if he was afraid to look away. Placing his gloved hands above Merlin's sodded fingers he let all of the warmth he felt shine through his sky-blue eyes.

_"I believe you, Merlin." _

Those words, the way he said them- Merlin's heart could barely stay inside his chest and his grimy cheeks were soon cleansed by the soft tears that were running down his face for in those words everything that he'd ever fought for was acknowledged and Arthur...

"If all of this is true..." Arthur continued in a hushed whisper.

_Protector, confidant, friend..._

"...Then I owe you more than I know, don't I?"

_brother, advisor, guardian angel..._

"We will talk about it someday, Arthur." Merlin said, tightening his grip around Arthur's fingers with almost inhuman strength. One lonely tear rolled down his cheek.

"I won't leave you." Arthur declared and Merlin's smile fell, his bright eyes widened. The light of a torchlight flickered towards them. "I _can't._"

If Arthur didn't know better he'd thought Merlin was growing desperate. "Please, Arthur-"

"I can- I can find a way to get you out of those shackles." the King continued, paying no heed to his friend. No. More than that..._much more than that._... "And we can escape. You are Emrys, aren't you? You are the most powerful man on the whole world, you-"

But Merlin was shaking his head before he could go on and he looked almost _defeated_ as he said,

"No, you're wrong Arthur. Even I have a weakness-"he smiled, then. A smile that held none of Merlin's characteristic charm and joy but that Arthur would think threatening were it directed to somebody else. "You yourself saw it. They will use _you _against me, Arthur…"

Before Arthur could reply the door of the cell rattled and, after another pleading gaze from Merlin, Arthur placed the stolen helmet back on.

* * *

*Latin. ' _The Once and Future King...The High King of Britain..._'I used the google translator so excuse any horrible mistakes. :)

Soundtrack for part 3:

No light, No light- Florence & The Machine.

This is How You Remind Me- Nickleback.

Rescue Me- Kerrie Roberts ( Once Upon A Time Soundtrack ;) and such fitting lyrics.)

Save You- Mathew Perryman Jones. (Don't let the overused title scare you away. PLEASE LISTEN TO THIS SONG because it's too perfect to be true.) Just so that you will understand how perfect it is I'll post some of the lyrics here:

"So, help me decide  
Help me to make up  
Make up my mind  
_Wouldn't that save you?_"

I mean...c'mon! That's what I call perfection. ;)

Wohoo, one more chapter to go! :D ( and an epilogue probably.) Thanks, all of you. Enjoy Merlin tonight!

Love,

Ocean.

P.S: MERRY CHRISTMAS! :)


	4. The Strongest Of All Men

I will not speak about the finale or how beautiful it was but I will bore you all with details from my life. :D

I saw _Les Miserables_ yesterday. Perhaps one of the best interpretations of the book, that still is one of my all-time favorites. :) Hugh Jackman was just unbelievable.

Yes yes yes this took me _ages_. But at least I managed to get everything I wanted into it though I still rushed through it and for that I am so _so_ sorry. Since my exams and APs are coming up ( oh,_ joy_!) I wanted to have this done as quickly as possible and so I've spent almost all of my free time writing. And I loved it. :D

Don't panic if you don't hear from me in a while. :) ( story wise that is, because whenever one of you fabulous authors update your brilliant stories you can be sure I'll read them as soon as I can. ) But I just have to get really focused this last few months of school. Graduation's around the corner! :)

What's in a name? An Achilles' heel is a fatal weakness in spite of overall strength, actually or potentially leading to downfall.

* * *

_And you made me the strongest of all men._

-With Eyes Wide Shut 'Bless the Fall'

.

You have yet to learn, Morgana, that there is no power on Earth greater than the power of love. True love, like true friendship, is one of life's sweetest miracles.

– Merlin, "The Awakening" 1982.

* * *

**The Strongest of All Men.**

**.  
**

There was a symbiosis- a _co-dependence_- between Merlin and himself that the King never really paid attention to. But now, as he locked gazes with Merlin and then turned slowly to see the figure of Melwas advance towards them he suddenly became aware of it. At the same time his hand tensed over Excalibur's hilt he could feel Merlin's own hands tense upon the bars of the cell, and he could see the soft frown that appeared on Melwas face when both men turned towards him with impeccable timing and identical expressions.

But yet he let it slide, paying no attention as Arthur tried to appear distant and blend into the background, instead, focusing wholly on Merlin.

_Merlin._ The same man who had been careworn, haggard and hollow only hours before and who now appeared as strong as ever, his cheeks rosy again with color and his eyes bright with rightful anger. When Merlin stood up to face Melwas- covered with soot and skinnier than Arthur had ever seen him- there was no trace of the nearly defeated man that had been there before. Now it was as if Arthur's presence_ alone_ infused life and courage into Merlin's body, as if that one time Arthur had grasped his friend's hand in reassurance had been enough for Merlin's heart and soul to rise again.

_And it was true._

"You haven't changed your mind, have you Emrys?"

"Not at all." answered Merlin. And Arthur could see that Melwas was taken aback by the cheerfulness in Merlin's voice, the same irritating tone he used when he awoke his King in the morning and wanted nothing more than to be bothersome. "Actually, I've _strengthened_ my resolve."

Melwas shook his silver head as he said softly, almost painfully. "I see."

Arthur could not contain a grin of his own when Merlin _smiled,_ a smile so wide and true that it brightened the dark dungeons. However, it soon fell when Melwas continued, "We cannot allow this. You know that, don't you Emrys?"

And what Arthur heard next, still preceded by Merlin's radiant smile, made his blood turn to ice.

"You mean you'll have to_ kill_ _me_." said The Emrys, as casually as if he and Arthur were discussing how dignified tackling each other in the courtyard looked. "_Such corrupted power cannot be_, isn't that right?"

It took all of Arthur's self- control not to leave the man headless right there and then. That and a soft warning look from Merlin's soulful eyes.

"Yes." replied Melwas. It sounded as if he regretted it with all his heart. "Emrys, you-"

"My loyalty lies with King Arthur Pendragon of Camelot." Merlin said, and the sheer _devotion _on his voice made Arthur's heart swell. "If you want to kill me for what I know to be true then go ahead. I will never betray_ him_."

For the smallest of moments Merlin let his eyes wonder towards Arthur's and whatever he saw in them- be it gratitude, acceptance or simply brotherly _love_- made his face glow with almost heavenly bliss. He and Arthur locked gazes and in his friend's tender eyes Arthur could see a silent command that he would never follow. '_Run, Arthur. Please.'_

The King almost snorted as he thought, '_Not bloody likely, idiot.'_

Merlin somehow managed to read the defiance on his King's eyes and Arthur already saw determination building up inside his friend's features but even if he _had_ intended to obey Merlin Arthur could do nothing when Melwas turned towards him and said, "Guard, take the prisoner. I'm afraid the time for negotiations is over."

For a moment, Arthur froze.

And then, his gaze found Merlin's.

Once again Merlin looked directly into his eyes and there was nothing but pure panic ebbed in each crease of his soft face (fear _for him_, the King realized with another rush of affection for the man that was his guardian angel.) Arthur just stared at him, barely believing his own hands when he unlocked the door and reached for Merlin, not once looking away from his eyes and yet trying not to let his concern for his friend show since he could sense Melwas' gaze nailed on his back.

Arthur Pendragon tugged at the chains so that his bounded manservant would follow behind, as meekly as a condemned sheep

There was no time to think, not really. Both of them, the King and the Warlock, could hardly stop themselves from looking into each other's eyes as they walked but the silent knock of the staff against the floor behind them did not let them. And then, they were in that throne room again and there was no time, no time _at all_ for Arthur to come up with a plan or for Merlin to try – although he knew it would be useless- to get out of the shackles.

But then Melwas suddenly turned towards Merlin (and if he noticed how the guard behind his prisoner tensed and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword he didn't worry about it) and did what neither of the prophesied men expected him to do.

He took the god forsaken shackles out.

When he stepped away Merlin's wrists were free and Melwas threw the shackles to the floor as if they were useless trinkets. A knight came up besides Arthur and the King watched with narrowed eyes as the man twisted Merlin's arms behind his skinny back on that same way Arthur had done years ago.

Numbly, prompted by the knight's quick nod, he found himself doing it too.

"This is a regrettable incident." said Melwas, turning his back on them and playing with a small pocket knife while staring at the dry land that the sun bathed on the other side of the window. "But you leave me no choice."

Almost as if it was instinctual, Arthur tightened his fingers on Merlin's arm and not one heartbeat later Merlin's own were curling around his wrist. His friend- the man that had, apparently, saved him from everything and everyone with _magic_ -squeezed gently.

Arthur understood what it meant. _It's okay._

Their captor barely glanced at them before he spoke again, as if he could not bear to look at Merlin anymore. "You are_ rejecting_ your destiny Emrys."

But Merlin, with a smile that Arthur would've described as_ beatific_ had he been able to stop his panicking heart, answered,

"_My destiny is Arthur Pendragon._ And I would die a thousand deaths before rejecting _him_."

This time, Melwas did not look as he gave the order.

"_Kill him."_

For the tiniest of seconds Arthur wondered _why_ Melwas thought Merlin would let himself be killed so stupidly, unbounded and free now, if Merlin was truly this all-powerful sorcerer then…what stopped him from blasting them all to oblivion?

He did not notice when the knight that stood beside him took a step back, bowing his head in something akin to fear.

Merlin looked up at him and Arthur looked back. His servant's blue eyes held inside them an apology so deep and true that Arthur could feel the frown of confusion forming on his face.

_It was the only way_. Merlin's eyes said.

Arthur held his gaze and suddenly he _knew_- and the knowledge left him with a throbbing heart and a dry throat- because Merlin could not be – he surely could _not_ be this idiotic…

He glanced up at Melwas as Merlin's words echoed through his mind, almost as if his friend was vowing again- _If you let him go I will not fight, I will not escape, I will not stop you. _

And then, coming back with the flash of a cruel smile in the darkness, the words that his brain had barely registered when he'd fallen to his knees- _We're honor bound to Emrys and cannot touch you._

Now he knew who Emrys was. Emrys was the man that he'd grown to call a friend. A man that now looked up at him with such serenity and acceptance that it made his skin crawl. A man that had been his idiotic servant and clumsy fool but that, at the same time, had been his savior and guiding light.

A heartbeat passed. Then,

"What is wrong with you?" it was the knight, once again by his side, whispering furiously into his ear. "Just _do_ it."

Uther's voice surged up from a dormant part of his subconscious. '_It is easy my boy, the heart is at the left side of the chest. Just hold the blade still and push.'_

_'Right, 'cause if you do you'll have to kill me, I suppose.'_

_'Immediately, and without hesitation...'_

Immediately and without hesitation.

'You'll have to kill me, I suppose.'

'You'll have to _kill me_.'

It was then when the reality of what he was asked to do caught up with The Once and Future King.

He looked again into Merlin's eyes and his friend looked back but there none of the reassurance Arthur was hoping for only heart-stopping sadness.

"No." said the Once and Future King. Each part of his heart and soul was rebelling against this sacrilegious act and the knight beside him mistook the trembling of Arthur's hands for the fear that paralyzed him as well. "No... _No_."

"Look-" said the knight, licking his dry lips. "-he will not fight back, Lord Melwas assured me he wouldn't. 'Emrys gave me his word.' he said. He cannot hurt us."

Arthur's eyes flickered towards Merlin's scarf, still visible around his scrawny neck, even if the cloak still covered his friend's shoulders. It was as if the sight of it ripped the King's heart.

When the man's words broke through the numbness in his mind, Arthur's chaotic thoughts reeled and he had to fight the urge to laugh. The knight beside him was afraid of his manservant, of _Merlin. _And not just afraid but _terrified._

Yet the man's sense of duty was truly remarkable because when Arthur did nothing to harm The Emrys kneeling before him, the knight unsheathed his own sword.

"Fine, then."

And Arthur saw the blade flash before it was brought down upon Merlin's bent back-

Not one heartbeat later Excalibur was buried deep into the knight's stomach and the King of Camelot no longer cared about his disguise or the look of complete horror on the knight's ashen face, he no longer cared that Melwas was a few feet away, he no longer cared that he was blowing up their only chance of survival, he just _did not care_. He only knew that he had been seconds away from seeing the most horrific act being committed in front of his eyes.

This was _Merlin._

Merlin the idiot. Merlin the sorcerer. Merlin, who had given up his liberty so that Arthur could be free…

Another wave of brotherly love and almost unbelievable anger swept through him when he remembered Merlin's words.

_I would die a thousand deaths before rejecting him._

Arthur Pendragon looked into the man's eyes and held his gaze until it glassed over, then threw the body to the side, not paying attention to Merlin's hand curling on the hem of his cloak when he raised Excalibur and prepared to dealt a killing blow to Melwas' back-

But he never got that far. Suddenly his body stopped responding and his muscles tightened, Excalibur fell from his hands and his knees buckled as Melwas turned around and pinned both of his arms back so that he was looking directly into Merlin's horrified eyes.

"Do you really think me an idiot, Arthur Pendragon?"

A thin yet muscular arm slid across his throat so that Arthur's head was irremediably forced to rest against Melwas shoulder. He could not move.

"I think you a coward." answered the Once and Future King with baited breath, "I think you broke every alliance there ever was between us when you tried to kill me."

A low chuckle in his ear, "Oh, I never wanted to kill you Pendragon."

Even before Arthur realized what those words meant, even before Merlin's eyes widened in accordance with his other half's erratic heartbeat, sorcerers and knights alike were surrounding them and Arthur could do nothing but watch as Merlin was forced to his feet and a blade was placed across his neck.

To make it all easier the neckerchief was thrown aside and there they lay, both Excalibur and a piece of red cloth while the Once and Future King and Emrys stared into each other's eyes at opposite sides of the room.

For as long as he lived the Once and Future King would never forget those moments in which Merlin's eyes and his connected over the bedlam and he felt his soul cry out in despair as the thread that kept their souls united, entwined around each other's, shook him to the core.

They stood, facing each other, for less than four heartbeats. But in those seconds Arthur and Merlin's gazes kept locked, never once wavering, as if with his eyes they could say to each other everything that was unsaid between them. It was empowering, almost, when the heart of the Once and Future King swelled and his breath hitched as he saw the simple truth stare at him from the depths of Merlin's eyes.

In those four heartbeats, in that badly kept room, Arthur Pendragon understood and accepted that Merlin had been soul-bonded to him forevermore and that the magic his friend wielded was true and pure and that together, he and Merlin, could bring the land of Albion true peace and prosperity-

Then, those chilling words were spoken,

"Go on. Kill him."

One blade was raised and then brought down over Merlin's chest.

"_Merlin!"_

Melwas did not expect any of what would happen next. Emrys, the one that the gods had gifted with such power, the one that had refused to use them for the good of his people, the one that had doomed them all because his heart beat _only for Arthur Pendragon_, a man that had killed mercilessly and that would do so again, had betrayed them all and he was now convicted.

Yet the moment he saw Arthur Pendragon – The Once and Future King- lunge forwards in what could only be described as a forlorn attempt to reach Emrys before the deed was done, he suddenly realized that maybe- just maybe the King of Camelot felt the same foolish affection towards The Emrys…and therein was his most grave mistake.

Arthur's raw howl of _'Merlin!'_ was preceded by the King's desperate attempts to break free and when he finally did so, it took no longer than a second for Melwas to realize that his hand, the one that was curled around the King's throat, still held a dagger in it.

As Arthur broke free the metallic blade grazed his neck.

The King of Camelot cried out and then-

Then time seemed to slow down…and it took The Emrys less than a breath to find that his King had been _touched_, less than a second for his eyes to burn with a power that could not be comprehended and free himself from the imminent danger he was under, less than a heartbeat to scream, in turn, the Once and Future King's name.

"_Arthur!"_

Then, as if the name was a sign, all of the people in the room- be it sorcerers or warriors, knights or simple peasants- began to move at their own accord. The chambers were filled with the screams of dying men when The Emrys picked his way through the crowd to reach his King-

And Arthur Pendragon, even though there was no sword on his hand, used his fists and nails to make his way through the moving masses of people and reach Merlin again.

Breaking through the air as if it was a crow's cry, one old withered voice- a sorcerer, no doubt- let out a war shout, _"Emrys and the Pendragon must die!"_ and suddenly Merlin found himself surrounded by faces that thought him a traitor and he could see Arthur no more as spells and blades turned in his direction and he wordlessly flashed his eyes so that they would make way-

But there were too many of them and not even the mighty Emrys could face them all at once. The glowing golden eyes lasted but a second before Merlin's concentration was broken by the hilt of a sword hitting the side of his head.

His vision swam and his knees buckled and just the thought of Arthur _needing_ _him_ somewhere in the middle of the pandemonium enabled him to grit his teeth and bring down the knight that had done it.

"Arthur!" he shouted again, "_Arthur!_"

The King heard his warlock call his name and his eyes searched for Merlin once more, unconsciously punching a man that had tried to sneak on him from behind. Still there was no Merlin to be seen, only the swarm of knights and sorcerers and yet he called out Merlin's name too, it was the only thing he _could_ do.

"Merlin!"

As if it was an answer a familiar piece of clothing caught his eye and after his heart had jolted on his chest Arthur Pendragon dived for it.

He found himself holding that plain red neckerchief on his hands, the one that had being thrown to the floor just moments ago and so he, clutching the piece of worn neck wear tightly on his fist tried to catch a glimpse of anything else- the familiar boots and jacket, the mop of black hair...

There was _nothing_ and suddenly Arthur felt as if his heart was about to escape his chest.

Merlin, still looking for any sign of his King, struck both sorcerers and knights alike as if they were nothing but obstacles on his path. There was one that had managed to nick his arm and his head still throbbed from the sword's hilt but his wide eyes never stopped looking even if Arthur seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth.

Perhaps in his desperation he did not see it coming but the next moment something collided with his back and Merlin found himself kneeling on the floor, skidding amongst the bodies and legs, pressing a hand to the slight bleeding on his head.

Something glimmered on the edge of the warlock's vision.

And in the same way Arthur had found the ever present neckerchief Merlin's dexterous fingers closed around the handle of Excalibur.

**...**

Merlin was nowhere to be found and the Once and Future King didn't know what to do.

He held the neckerchief tightly inside his fist as if the worn cloth could provide any assurance that Merlin was, indeed, _alive_ in the middle of that carnage. He never stopped calling the idiot's name and not even when his voice had gone hoarse did he stop.

He could not.

He was a warrior, trained to kill since birth (1) and Arthur had never been gladder of his upbringing. It took him no time at all to find a dispatched sword, hanging loosely from a fallen man's hand and in his hands the rusty blade became a nightmare to whoever _dared_ cross him. There were two or three of Melwas men, foolish enough to try and get in the King's way of finding his manservant and their hearts were bleeding even before they could utter a word.

He had no mercy for them- what they had done...trying to take Merlin away from him, trying to disrupt the balance that had been lost for so _long_ in his life. It was unthinkable. Arthur Pendragon had never once wanted to spill innocent blood. But the Once and Future King's enraged eyes only had present the way Merlin had bended towards the floor, offering his life - _once more_- for his King.

Little did he know that Merlin, now armed with a sword forged in the dragon's breath, held within his heart the exact same thoughts.

Then, as if the world had stopped for one moment just to give Arthur's fury a direction, the King caught sight of Melwas, making his way through his men as quickly as possible, using his staff and his magic as a weapon as he ran.

And in that moment Arthur forgot about the man he thought he'd seen, the man that was trying to do the best for his people. He forgot about the trembling of Melwas' hands when he had raised his sword against Arthur ( the way his heart warmed up when they first shook hands) , forgot the sympathy he'd felt when he saw the state Melwas people were in. All Arthur Pendragon saw was a murderer that needed to be stopped.

So he followed the thin, robed man through the crowd. Behind him the fighting went on but, in the same way his mind worked during a hunt, Arthur's eyes had singled out his prey and so he sliced and cut until he had his opportunity and broke into a fleeting run to reach him and strike a definitive blow to his heart.

Then, the unthinkable happened when the man turned around and his eyes flashed gold.

Suddenly Arthur understood why he had failed to kill Melwas the first time and the irony of it all made his heart throb. Because Melwas had _magic_ as well. And Arthur had been so naive, believing every single word that had left Melwas' lips in which he'd told his new ally that he condemned magic just before he slid a blade trough Arthur's ribs.

The Lord looked at him with something akin to pity on his eyes.

"You really should've left it all alone, Pendragon. I would've let you live."

Gripping his weapon tightly on his hand Arthur tried to get back up but an invisible force pushed his body down once again and he fell to his knees with a grunt.

"I really would have." Melwas repeated. In his eyes there were only ashes from the fire that had fueled his motive and it was as if he knew how quickly all was crumbling around him.

The sword that had fallen from Arthur's hand was on the traitor's grasp in that moment and then, with a smile that would haunt Arthur for the rest of his days, Melwas said, "The Emrys should not be allowed to live. Not if he's bound to you by will."

And then he raised the sword to strike down the Once and Future King-

Only to be cut off by a blade suddenly protruding from his stomach.

And Arthur could not repress the smile that blossomed in his face when the fluorescent light of a wayward spell showed him Merlin's face behind Melwas, in his hands Excalibur that was now slicing through Melwas' body.

Yet it was not Merlin who was staring back at him and in the space of a single heartbeat Arthur saw_ why_ his clumsy friend awoke such fear in the hearts of men . For a moment Merlin was_ Emrys_, protector of the Once and Future King, and his soft face held none of the accustomed gentleness and compassion. There was only cold determination in Merlin's dark blue eyes, each and everyone of his features a sharp line.

Arthur was looking right at the face of a man that had been given to him since birth. A man that was Merlin and yet...wasn't.

_"Arthur."_

Somehow the moment was gone and Merlin was back, gripping his forearms and smiling that bright, idiotic smile that Arthur always woke up to. And the King couldn't help but smile too.

"Merlin, you idiot." he said, and Merlin's eyes twinkled as if he'd never heard anything more wonderful in his entire life.

Then, the world collapsed upon them all.

**...**

Merlin only had time to realize that Melwas was not actually dead yet and that the low, incessant whispering he was hearing was the man spitting a spell, when it happened.

The roof that was above them collapsed in the same way it had done so many years ago when Morgana had taken Camelot for the first time.

As if it was pure instinct his magic reached out for Arthur and the King had time to form the words "_what are you-_" before a ray of golden light washed over him, shielding him from the falling debris and pushing him away at the same time. Then Merlin turned towards the ceiling with golden eyes and as Arthur regained his balance everything was engulfed in dust and screams.

Then there was silence. A silence that was only broken by Arthur Pendragon making his way out of the rubble and forcing his head up. With a panicking heart the King of Camelot tried to catch a glimpse of Merlin but the grime in the air made it impossible and the dust in his eyes blurred his vision.

"...Merlin." it was not a scream at all but rather a choked whisper, followed by incessant coughing when the floating ashes entered his lungs. Then, maybe an eternity later his vision sharpened and he finally could see his friend, lying face-first in the ground with one arm still extended towards Arthur when he had forced his magic to protect his King.

Merlin had _magic._ And Arthur could not bring himself to care. Because he knew, in the deepest recess of his heart, that Merlin's magic had been his savior again and again.

A fear like nothing he'd ever known gripped Arthur's heart when he whispered Merlin's name again through his raw throat and his manservant did not move. Forcing himself to his elbows, even though the shallow cuts in his body protested and burned, he crawled towards his warlock, calling Merlin's name once more, like a mantra, a prayer that kept him sane.

His heart stuttered inside his chest when he saw that dust-covered face move towards him and two bright blue eyes blinked open. Merlin's worn gaze locked with his and an instant smile that brightened the death-filled atmosphere formed on his lips as he mouthed the word, '_Arthur._'

The joy that gripped the King's heart was indescribable and he could see in Merlin's face that his friend was as ecstatic to see Arthur was alright as he himself was. For a moment the knowledge that they were _alive_ washed over them both and Arthur fought the urge to laugh right there and then, to scoop his manservant up in a bear hug and blabber about how much of an idiot he was.

But before he could do any of those things Merlin let his head fall down again and closed his eyes, as if he wanted to rest there forevermore.

"Merlin." the Once and Future King repeated. He began crawling closer. "Merlin you idiot _come on_. Get up. Get up Merlin we're getting out of here."

"I'm tired Arthur." was the mumbled answer.

The King of Camelot shook his head, forcing his scraped knees to pick themselves up and aid him in his effort to reach his dearest friend. "I'll give you a week off if you want. But first we have to get home."

Merlin did not opened his eyes again but an instant frown settled on his expression. "Two."

"Alright, two." Arthur conceded, trying to ignore the way his heart climbed to his throat when Merlin did not move. "Three, even. Hell, I don't even know if you're fit to be my manservant anymore. I should find you a position in the Court where you can- Merlin? Merlin?"

Nothing.

There was _nothing_ and suddenly Arthur couldn't remember how to breathe.

He crawled the rest of the way to his manservant with such desperation that his knees ended up more scraped than before and he did not feel the small sharp rocks that scratched the palms of his hands. All Arthur could see was Merlin just a few feet away from him, lying there as if he never intended to get back up.

He was so focused on his friend that Arthur did not see it until it was too late.

He_ felt_ it though, and his every instinct cried out in alarm when a hand wrapped itself around his ankle, cold and unyielding. Turning his head the King of Camelot saw a fallen sorcerer raising his head and fixing his bloodshot eyes on him, half buried in the debris but still strong enough to pull him back against his will and not even Arthur's kicks lessened the tight hold he had.

With one last desperate leap Arthur reached out for Merlin and his fingers wrapped themselves around that skinny wrist before the exhaustion blurred his vision and the pull on his leg got stronger...

The sorcerer was perhaps in his last breaths but that did not stop him from raising his hand, which was already bright with condensing flames, and point it at the prone King. Taking the time to crack one last pained smile the man wheezed,

"You will _pay_ for what you've done Pendragon."

Arthur saw sparks like that of a crackling fire rush towards him and he closed his eyes as he felt the heat lick his skin, about to burn him alive.

It was then when soft, long fingers closed around his hand and at the touch he directed his gaze towards Merlin to find his manservant's eyes wide open, looking directly into his. Knowing that this would be the last chance he would ever have to look at Merlin Arthur did his best to smile and then waited for the end, still clutching his friend's wrist with a vice-like grip.

Yet the end never came.

Arthur raised his head. The heat never touched him and when he looked up in bewilderment what he saw would be engraved in his mind eternally. He would always remember how truly frightening Merlin looked as he shot towards the sorcerer with pure power and the way his eyes glowed as stars in the middle of the carnage and how he'd thought- maybe he was delirious- that the gold of Merlin's eyes was a thousand times clearer and brighter, _purer_ than any other he'd ever seen. He would never forget the way Merlin's hands drew him closer and how with one powerful flicker of his wrist the sorcerer's screeches were silenced forever and then his ankle had been free before Merlin placed his hand across his shoulder blades and looked up at the skies above.

Through wide eyes Arthur saw those who weren't dead pick themselves up and rush towards them, sorcerers, warriors and knights, all of them raising their hands and weapons to strike down the Once and Future King who was, in their eyes, nothing more than a Pendragon.

But Merlin tightened his arms around him and the world exploded in golden hues as magic-_ Merlin's magic_- enveloped it all. The Once and Future King's heart leaped in his chest because he recognized the soft touch of this magic and his _soul_, so deeply entwined with Merlin's, had craved that which made him whole for so long...

_Magic_, the essence of Merlin, swept through Arthur's golden hair as an invisible current that tightly held his heart with the one whom was made for him.

He had not finished tasting the wonder of it all before it was over and Merlin's eyes looked at him again as the legendary warlock let out a shuddering breath. His deep blue eyes seemed to flicker through Arthur's whole body, reassuring himself that his King was not harmed.

The knowledge of what he'd just done- Of what he and _Arthur_ had just done- hit The Emrys then and Merlin let out a high pitched laugh, rubbing his thumbs in Arthur's shoulders as if to make sure that his King was there and it was not a dream.

His secret was no longer a secret.

Arthur _knew._

And there was no hatred on his King's expressive eyes, no condemnation. There was only relief- at seeing him alive, Merlin realized.- and..._awe_. Arthur had not forsaken him.

_His Once and Future King had not forsaken him._

Now there was no shadow upon his heart and there was only light before his eyes. It was the sight of Arthur's soft smile, carried within such peace that Merlin knew it was all over and he had nothing to fear. Never again.

As Arthur held out his hand so that his beloved friend could take it and rise to his feet Merlin looked around. He cringed as the full extent of what had just happened was unveiled before his eyes and his tender heart throbbed for all those lives he couldn't save. Still, when he saw a man twitch out of the corner of his eye he did not hesitate in helping him. Running towards him The Emrys knelt and placed his hands upon the gruesome wound on his stomach.

"_Ge hailige._" he whispered.

Perhaps seeing Arthur's expression- the way his eyes glimmered with curiosity and wonder, the steps he took towards Merlin as he watched.- was more astounding than the healing itself.

With difficulty he dragged his eyes from Arthur's and looked down at the man he had just healed, who regarded him with open-mouthed bewilderment. One pale hand rose to place itself on Merlin's as the old druid- for Merlin had recognized the mark on his temple- asked,

"_Why_ are you doing this Emrys?"

Giving the man's trembling hand a gentle squeeze he answered, "Because it is not victory I seek. It is peace." (2)

And Arthur's soul trembled inside him when the words reached his ears. He stared, wide eyed, at Merlin's gentle face while he spoke and the bond that had suddenly made itself known to him shook in ecstatic joy. Merlin's heart, after all, beat in accordance with his own.

When the druid -overwhelmed by The Emrys' kindness even though he'd tried to kill that which was more precious to him- finally let go of his hands he caught sight of something glimmering on the edge of his vision. Merlin felt his expression instantly soften. Excalibur, having saved his King's life once more, was lying a few feet from them both._  
_

So he reassured the druid with soft words again before making his way towards the blessed sword and picking it up from the rubble, where it didn't belong, to put it on its rightful place. In Arthur's hands.

"_Arthur._" never had the King heard his name being called with such reverence.

His warlock knelt before him, offering the sword pulled from the stone with trembling hands as he bowed his head and Arthur's eyes trembled with awe when he understood what it all meant, when the dipping of Merlin's head reminded him that he'd never had a more loyal friend and the quickening of his heart told him that he needed to pull Merlin to his feet...because he was the true hero, and he, Arthur, did not deserve him.

"My King." said Merlin with a softness not unlike the one he would use to address the dearest of brothers. "This is yours. It was made for you and you only."

Knowing that he could do nothing else Arthur's hand closed around the hilt of Excalibur, taking it gently from his warlock's hands.

"As was _I_." Merlin continued, with the sincerity and guilelessness of a child. "I was made for you too Arthur. My magic. It is yours. Only yours Arthur."

Arthur's eyes fell once again over his kneeling warlock and perhaps if Merlin could've seen the emotions swimming behind his sky-blue eyes he would've wept of joy. The Once and Future King rejoiced and marveled upon the bond they shared and the unadulterated faith and honesty that his greatest friend held within his heart. He wondered, and he would do so for many years, how had he survived almost twenty years without Merlin by his side, how had he not known everything that he was missing. Merlin had saved him, Arthur realized, but not only that. He had, as well, saved Merlin. They'd saved each other with the inextinguishable depth of their faith and devotion for one another.

Saying not a word the King knelt before his warlock- because Merlin was _his_ just as he was Merlin's and he had been since the beginning of time.- and placed both hands upon those narrow shoulders he knew so well.

Merlin's heart nearly missed a beat when he felt it and he raised his gaze to meet his King's, his eyes full of wonder and warmth and saw him flatten something carefully with his calloused hands. Then, with the same care he would've taken Guinevere's hand, the King's arms tied the worn red neckerchief around his neck, arranging it so that it would be exactly were it should be, smoothing it over and then running his thumbs along his warlock's shoulders.

"Merlin." the King said, with a smile that held within all the emotions that his thundering heart could not contain. "_Thank you._"

The embrace that came after was never spoken of by neither of them. They never doubted that the strain of almost losing each other in such short amount of hours was the reason why they both had simultaneously forgotten all and clasped their arms around each other needing to just _breathe _and know that they were alright. Arthur hid a few tears in Merlin's shoulder and Merlin did as well and as time went by neither of them relented. Neither of them _wanted_ to.

And if later, as they picked their way through the rubble without letting go of each other's arm, Arthur noticed the redness in Merlin's eyes he said not a word and if Merlin perceived that Arthur's fingers tightened their hold on his shoulder every few heartbeats he lowered his gaze and let it be.

There was no need for words to know what was happening inside their hearts. Every few seconds, when their eyes found each other, Merlin could see the soft assurance and acceptance inside Arthur's sky-blue irises. And that was all he needed.

That was all he would ever need.

.

_La commedia è finita_

_.  
_

* * *

'...What may I do when my master feareth  
_But in the field with him to live and die?_  
For good is the life ending faithfully.'

-Sir Thomas Wyatt, ' The Long Love That My Heart Doth Harbour.'

* * *

(1) In Arthur's words, " I've been _trained to kill since birth_." 1x01.

(2) 4x05. "It is not victory I seek, it is peace." Arthur to Queen Annis.

Before you ask yes I totally ripped off Mulan on that sword scene. :P I just couldn't resist.

An Unbreakable Vow is a magical spell of unknown incantation, in which one wizard makes an oath to another. If either of the wizards break their terms, they die. What Merlin did in his desperation is not the proper Unbreakable Vow but ( and I'm taking creative license here) a watered down/medieval version of it. When the wizards get wands then maybe they changed the form but not the substance. (The reason why Melwas didn't die is because he didn't actually vowed anything just as Narcissa Malfoy wouldn't have died if Snape broke his vow.)

( all this makes sense in the Harry Potter Universe so if you have no idea of what I'm talking about then just ignore it.)

Soundtrack for the final chapter:

Guiding Light- Muse

Crawl- Superchick.

With Eyes Wide Shut- Blessthefall.

Silver Lining- Hurts.

What If The Storm Ends- Snow Patrol.

What You Need- Les Friction. ( this...THIS...is unbelievable.)

There _might_ be an epilogue...I'm not sure how that will work out just yet. ;)

And now let me hug each and every one of you for being so awesome. Each and every time I think about it I just cannot believe how many wonderful, talented people I've met in the Merlin fandom. I hope we all continue to happily write fan-fiction for a long, long time. :D

THANK YOU! *blows kisses.*

Love,

Ocean.


End file.
